Different Circumstances
by EmieSmith
Summary: Dumbledore always knew that Arthur Kirland was a special Muggle. So for that reason,  he instead entrusted young Harry Potter's life in the hands of the knew, unexpected father.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Summary: Dumbledore always knew that Arthur Kirkland was a special Muggle. So for that reason, he instead entrusted young Harry Potter's life in his hands.

Author's Note: I normally HATE crossovers, rarely ever read them actually. Yet, I was inspired to write this for reasons beyond me! I hope you all like it!

Warning: Perhaps minor swearing.

.oOo.

Arthur Kirkland was the kind of man you would call perfectly normal. A younger man of his early twenties with a well-paying job and a nice little home, number 4, on Privet Drive. To his colleagues and neighbors, the young Brit was never involved in anything strange or mysterious. Arthur had never seemed _to_ bizarre.

Though for one thing. Arthur _never _interacted with many people outside of work, in hopes that they would remain at a distance from him. So that they never truly knew who he was. Or what he could do. You see, Arthur had always been different, ever since he was a boy, growing up with this two parents and five brothers.

Growing up, Arthur was surrounded by religion. Roman Catholic was his origin and his parents stayed very true to the words of their God. Arthur, however, never paid much mind. He could see them, the creatures of magic, for as long as he remembered. While he and his brothers were told to study the Bible, he would think about his fairies and unicorns.

His parents would have never believed such nonsense! Arthur was sure of it. So he kept it to himself, telling no one as he did his best not to make it too obvious he saw things no one else can.

Sometimes, at night, he would see fireflies - or, what he had once thought were fireflies. He later discovered that they were actually winged creatures. While resembling fairies and Elves, they had facial features of bears! And so, after many thought, Arthur had decided to name them Ankers.

After leaving home at eighteen, Arthur had found everything he had ever wanted. The quiet seclusion of living alone, all the tea and scones he could ever want, and of course a good news paper, informing him on the daily scandals being played out in the world beyond his little life. He never expected anything more to come into his life, not now, not ever.

Of course, though, while you may be completely content with your life, there was always someone who was ready-set and equipped with the ability to change your life completely.

For Arthur Kirkland's case; it came in the form of a small infant, a letter, and the name Harry Potter.


	2. The Boy Who Lived

Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived

Authors Note: Thank you all who alerted my story and commented on it! I am very pleased you all found it interesting enough to read! As many of you said that you were not a big fan of Harry being raised by someone else, I agree with you. This story has been itching in my brain for weeks though, and I decided to give it go! To tell you the truth; I'm surprised it got that many reviews and comments! I'll do my best, Dearest Readers, to keep the story interesting and to avoid clichés as much as possible. While throwing in humor, family moments, and of _course_ Magic!

Disclaimer: Seeing that I forgot to put this in the first chapter, or prologue, I will put it know. I do not own Harry Potter or any characters, creatures, and interesting magical words that are associated with it. I also do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers, any of the characters, creatures (such as Flying Mint Bunny), and interesting…magical words…? This is merely a fan fiction, written by yours truly.

Warning: Minor curse words may possibly occur.

.oOo.

Arthur felt confused, for lack of a better word. At his feet was a small child, jet black hair and closed sleeping eyes. The babe was wrapped in a tattered brown blanket and with the infant was a letter. Its cream envelope shone against the gray of England's weather; almost like Christmas lights or a newly cleaned window. The extravagant letter was sealed closed with red wax and on the wax were the initials A.B. stamped into it.

Arthur was almost certain that the child had been dropped off at the wrong house. Arthur was not, could not have been the infant's father! His morning was going fine until this point, all he wanted was his paper off his drive way and perhaps his mail from the box, not a stop from the Stork!

Carefully, the Brit picked up the child, making sure no one had seen him before retreating to his home. The child's pale skin looked dangerously cold while his nose was red and running. How was he not supposed to be concerned?

"Bloody Hell," Arthur whispered under his breath. Unsure of what to do with the child in his arms, he decided to place it upon the couch cushion, causing the infant to stir and awake slightly before returning to it's quiet slumber. "Who are you?"

He had almost forgotten about the letter before he plucked it from the blanket and opened it quietly, before reading it to himself.

_Dear Arthur Robert Kirkland,_ the letter read.

_The boy that has been presented to you if merely a young infant of 15 months, being born July 31__st__, 1980. Much to my grief as well as others, young Harry Potter's parents had been brutally murdered the night of Hollow's Eve, or October 31__st__, of this year. Leaving him orphaned with not a remaining relative present. _

_I have bestowed his upbringing on you, Arthur Robert Kirkland, knowing that you are a special man. Young Potter currently needs you and will continue to need you as he grows older. I hope that you find his presence equally satisfying for he may be the portal into another world that you always sought. _

_With Warm Regards,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Arthur looked stunned as he reread the letter several times. Analyzing it, making sure that is was his name the letter was addressed to. Arthur could have stood there, reading the letter a series of times all day if it wasn't for a quiet grunt coming from the infant on the couch.

His eyes shot to the small human. He was awake and seemed to Arthur on the verge of tears. All of his suspicions, of course, were soon proven correct when the sharp wale of a child ripped through the silence. In a panic, Arthur went to pick the child up, bouncing him softly against his chest as he often seen woman with their children do when they began to cry in public.

It seemed to be working for the cries stopped though tears still continued to fall. Arthur lowered the baby in his arms to get a better look at him. "Harry Potter," He said half to himself, half to the child. "Harry Potter." He repeated quietly. This time, really thinking about the name and coexisting it with the baby he had currently in his arms.

"What am I going to do?"

.oOo.

A week had passed since Harry's arrival and Arthur found it hard not to believe it was a dream. Not exactly a bad dream or nightmare, for Harry was a good baby. He ate a good amount and sleep through the night on most nights, but something continued to itch at the back of Arthur's mind.

It struck the Brit odd that child arrives at his house with nothing more than a letter and a blanket and yet, he is told to accept the strange ordeal and just raise the child with no questions or wonders? Not to mention tight money problems. Arthur made just enough to support himself, pay his bills, and stay out of debt. With a new person in the house, especially an infant, he would have to not only get another job, but a Nanny to watch Harry.

It was a lot for a man of twenty-one that never planned on having kids to handle.

From the kitchen Arthur could hear Harry in the front room. He was most likely watching television and playing with the few toys he had purchased for the youngster. It had become extremely obvious to Arthur that the toddler given to him was extraordinarily bright. Already capable of spelling out his own name in letter blocks and letter cereal.

And while Arthur could admit that he had made Harry's stay so far very comfortable, he was at a loss of that to do with Harry when they boy wanted him Mum. Several times already, at least two a day, the young boy would walk around the house, clutching a stuffed rabbit crying, "Mummy". Arthur was unsure how to explain to an infant that his Mum was never going to answer.

Arthur hoped that with time, Harry would finally forget about his parents. After all, infants and toddlers of his age don't remember anything from that time period of their lives when they grew older.

Some could say that, within that week, Arthur has grown a soft spot for Harry. Despite still finding the whole situation odd. When his brother called earlier, he asked Arthur why had missed work. Naturally, the Brit would want to tell the truth to his brother but, "A baby showed up on my doorstep and Imma told raise it!" just didn't seem right. So instead, he replied by telling him that he was simply sick and would be returning shortly.

It didn't seem fair though, Arthur had thought, keeping a child from society just because he was incapable of either coming up with a legitimate excuse to why he has a child or being able to tell anyone the truth. On the other hand, Arthur also didn't seem it fair the situation he was force into by some Albus guy.

"If I was a smart man," Arthur said to Harry, placing a little bowl of Cheerios next to the boy. "I would bring you to an Orphanage, were professionals could handle you and get you a home."

Harry's little fingers when for the cereal before placing one in his mouth. He chewed on the snack before he looked up at Arthur smiling and clapping. "Yay!" Harry expressed, unaware what Arthur was taking about and honestly, didn't care all that much to find out.

Arthur sighed. "Yeah, yay."

Harry smiled again; bottom two teeth visible to Arthur before he lost interest in the blonde and went back to his Cheerios and television; happily eating another three or four and watching Rosie and Jim with complete, other interest.

Arthur sighed once again, which he found himself doing that a lot lately. He went into the kitchen that was right off of the living room. The letter he has received the night Harry was put on his doorstep was on the counter. Open.

Or, at least, Arthur thought it was open.

The letter that he had previously opened a few days ago and read a good hundred or so times; was sitting on the counter, once more sealed shut. Arthur looked at it bemused. He was sure he has opened it right after he had come into the house with Harry. It had told him of his "task", and yet, there it lay closed. At it had been the night it arrived.

Arthur picked up the letter cautiously. After all, if it could re-seal itself; chances are it could bite as well. It letter looked no different from when he first obtained it; other than the fact it was closed. He thought for a while, wondering whether or not if he should open it or whether he had _actually_ opened it the night it came.

"A dream Arthur," He said to himself, trying to be convinced that this was nothing more. "A bloody weird one." Thin finger ripped the envelope, no longer wishing to keep it intact. This time, Arthur found that the envelope was no longer holding the letter it had once. This time, however, Arthur pulled out a paper, and then another. And another. And another.

A stack of papers at least thirty pieces high came from the envelope. Arthur was awestruck. "How was this possible?" Arthur thought aloud. "What in the hell is going on?"

The papers presented themselves as Birth Certificates, parent names addressed as Lilly and James Potter. As well as Adoption Rights forms, a new Birth Certificate with Arthur's name, even equipped with the names witnesses, and everything else that went along with adopting a child.

Stunned, he stared at them. Incapable of processing what was going on. Thousands of questions came racing though his head all at once! Suddenly, Arthur could feel a headache come on. He needed a nice quiet nap, and perhaps a nice cup of tea. Perhaps, even a few shot of tequila.

He was a legitimate father to an unexpected child.

.oOo.

Author Note #2: I hope you all enjoyed the first _real_ chapter to Different Circumstances. During the end I felt it was a bit sketchy with the whole letter thing, but I worked with it. I hope you all felt like it worked well.

Leave a review to tell me what you think!


	3. The News

Chapter Two: The News

Author's Note: Hey there! Once again, thank you all so much for enjoying my story! It seems that I have been getting a recurring question from my lovely readers. Several people have asked me why Arthur was so special… Well, I'm not going to tell you. Not yet at least. There is a reason which is his sight, but there is something else about him and his past that that makes him especially unique. So there is your teaser! If you can figure it out this that bit of information, I'll do something special for you, such as write you a one-shot of anything you want or whatever, but you _have to_ **private message me**!

Also, I think there are a few people that are a bit confused with the concept or what is going on here and I am going to break it down. Sorry for not mentioning this in the Prologue, but Arthur Kirkland is just Arthur Kirkland. It appeared that some people thought that he was also England. I have this story more AU in the Hetalia department rather than the Harry Potter part.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, nor the Hetalia: Axis Powers scans/manga/anime .

Warnings: Same as always. Minor cursing. Maybe.

.oOo.

It wasn't long until the neighborhood caught onto Arthur and his new little addition to the family. Harry was a very social child that loved to follow Arthur around. When Arthur went to the laundry room to throw clothes in the dryer, there would be Harry, right behind him, ready to help any way possible. Or when Arthur would be cooking some sort of abomination in the kitchen, Harry would be at his feet playing.

Harry got especially frustrated with stairs though. Even more so when Arthur went up them to grab something and temporarily left poor Harry downstairs alone to await his return. He once had attempted stairs, only getting to the third step before falling backward, hitting his head on the tiling, screeching in pain.

Arthur has feared that the boy had cracked his head, but luckily thanks to very, very expensive x-rays, Harry was shown to be fine despite the rather large dump on the back of his head. Arthur blamed himself, of course, for not knowing the proper things to buy to keep children from places they best not be. And so, after the doctors, they went straight to the store and purchased baby-gates as well as the proper essentials to baby-proof a home.

It was when they got home, when Arthur was examining Harry's head, sure that the doctor didn't look close enough, that he saw the rather odd scar on Harry's forehead. Arthur was drawn to the papers he received the second time he opened the letter to see if they had said anything about the scar. Unfortunately, it had said nothing.

It was Thursday of the second week since Harry's arrival, when he had followed Arthur outside to get the mail, lips puckering to show his distaste for the winter air, did a neighbor see the boy. Mrs. Bickleton, from three houses down, was walking her most unsightly Pekingese when she saw Harry.

"Aw-thur," Mrs. Bickleton said aloud in her scratchy voice caused by several years of smoking. It frightened Harry, but not enough to go to Arthur, despite all he wanted to. Mrs. Bickleton was a rather tall woman, perhaps towering Arthur as 6'2". She had rather faded brown hair with many, many gray strains. Her wrinkled were deep and the skin on her neck hung. She, in other words, looked like a turkey.

"Good Morning Mrs. Bickleton," Arthur said, smiling by force at the sour looking woman and her matted dogs. "Rather cold this morning, is it not? How are you?"

"Aw-thur, were on Earth did you get this child?" Mrs. Bickleton pointed a rather long, rather boney finger towards Harry's midsection. The boy, this time, went to Arthur. Her hand shook as it followed to boy.

"He," Arthur paused, knowing he could no longer deny it, knowing that now, with the papers and the time with Harry, he was never going to be able to let him go. "He is my son."

.oOo.

The news spread like a wildfire throughout the neighborhood. Even faster throughout the town. Soon, every citizen of the small town of Bulbury was raving. Talking about Arthur Kirkland and the new child that he had adopted; it struck them odd that he had not told anyone. Arthur knew that it wouldn't be long until his family contacted him.

In other words, Alfred.

Alfred Kirkland was Arthur younger brother. He was rather taller than him, with light strawberry blonde hair and glasses. Back in High School, Alfred was the popular jock that everyone licked, that every girl wanted to date. He was the _it_. The problem though, was Alfred was never particularly bright, only getting into a college in America for his rugby skills, or as he said it.

Banging on the door boomed furiously through the house. Someone was at the door, and that someone wanted in. Quickly, Arthur went to the door, hoping to seize the noise before it woke sleeping Harry from his nap. Arthur swung the door open, prepared to shout profanities at the noise maker. That is, until Arthur saw the pursuer.

"Arthur!" Alfred said loudly in his newly found American accent; hugging his rather shorter, older brother. "Artie how are you?"

"F-fine, just bloody fine," He sputtered out, pushing Alfred away so he could breath. Arthur wasn't aware that Alfred was in town, he wasn't even aware Alfred was in England. Last he had heard was that he'd run off with some girl in college over in America. "Why the hell are you here?"

Alfred looked slightly hurt but soon disguised it with a huge smile. "Everyone is talkin' about how you got a son Artie! Mom called me and everything!" Arthur nodded at what his brother was saying, still slightly surprised that he was here. Arthur wasn't going to lie though, if someone in this family was going to find out and then call him out about it, it would be Alfred. "Who's the lucky gal?"

"No girl," Arthur said sheepishly. "I, uh, I adopted him. Now if you would be as kind as to _please_ be quiet Alfred, I'd highly appreciate it. Why don't you leave while you're at it?"

"Well," Alfred said, looking around Arthur into the house. Baby gates could be seen, as well as a high chair, and of course toys. "Where is the he? Aren't you going to introduce me to your mystery son no one knew you were getting."

"Believe me, I didn't know either." Arthur mumbled almost silently.

"What?"

"I said he is asleep."

"Well then, at least invite me in and give me some of you totally gross food or something!" Alfred pushed past his brother. "I'm starved."

.oOo.

Much against Arthur's liking, Alfred stayed for dinner. It was obvious that he also expected to stay the night but wasn't going to inform Arthur of this until it was too late. Harry, however, seemed to very much like Alfred. Whether it is his loudness, or perhaps how the atmosphere suddenly got warmer every time Alfred would walk into a room, Arthur wasn't sure, but Harry loved him.

"You don't say?" Alfred asked Harry, who in return babbled a bunch of nonsense and giggled. "You do say?"

Once again, Harry laughed and Alfred smiled. Arthur, himself found it hard not to show some sort of pleased emotion toward the young boy; whoever Harry's parents were, they sure had a special son.

"Alfred," Arthur stated bitterly. "You are such a bleeding mooch. The least you can do, if not clean the dishes, is clear the table. Leave Harry alone and do something you barmy git!"

"Chill, chill," Alfred rose from his seat, clearing the table to the bare minimum before taking the dishes to Arthur to be washed. "What happen to you Arthur? I mean, you've always been an ass but you seem more distant than usual and know a kid? Maybe you should go see someone."

"Not blooming likely," Arthur grunted coldly. "The only problems I have is a that there is bloody freeloader in my home."

Alfred laughed heartily.

Arthur sighed but smiled when he looked out the window and saw few fairies were in the garden, going to bed in the tulips. He wondered how Alfred wasn't able to see them. Then again, Arthur wondered why no one could ever see them. It wasn't like they were dull or something. They shimmered and they weren't exactly pleasant to be around; at least the Pixies weren't.

Harry giggled from behind them and Arthur turned to see what he was looking at. When he did, he was too shocked to speak. Frozen there, Arthur stared. Right in front of Harry was a Fairy from his garden. It was standing were Harry's food had been and it appeared that Harry was capable of seeing it.

"Wha… what?" Arthur asked aloud, eyes glued on the creature as well as Harry. "How are you… How?"

Arthur had always been alone when it came to his magical creatures. Several times he was even convinced he was crazy. But there, there right in front of him was Harry playing with a Fairy! Harry saw them to?

"Artie what's your problem?" Alfred asked.

"I'm not alone."

.oOo.

Author's Note: Once again I felt like the end was a bit sketchy. I wanted his family, as well as everyone else know about Harry's existence, but I also wanted there to be a bond between Arthur and Harry that made all of Arthur's doubt of keeping him to go away. So I sorta put them both. I hope you all liked it.

Tell me what you thought.


	4. The Connection

Chapter Three: The Connection

Author's Note: I hate writers block. I was literally forcing myself to write this chapter, which would normally be easy. After all, Arthur did just find out Harry can see fairies. I'll do my best. Heh. I hope it isn't shit.

Oh, and for questions. Someone asked is Arthur known Harry was a wizard (something along the line of these words). Arthur, unfortunately, does not. Why? Because I'm mean! Haha, Arthur doesn't know about Harry's magic abilities because I have something planned for when he does. A past of someone will be uncovered!

Another question was if Matthew (Canada) will be in this fanfiction. The answer is, actually, I don't know. He is Arthur's brother though, and I may possibly throw him in here later if it convenient or if he is needed. Truth is, though, I sort of forgot about him. Oh the irony!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

.oOo.

Shook had made its home on Arthur's face. Seeing Harry interact with a magical creature was something Arthur wasn't expecting to ever see, if not in his adopted son but in anyone at all. He was use to living a life where he was unlike anyone else. One which he was a rather _different _child, with a rather large, overacted imagination. In other words; a lonely life.

Seeing Harry interacting with a garden fairy was confusing. It made Arthur's head hurt, his knees week. He felt dizzy as if he were going to fall. Nausea struck him as he felt he was going to regurgitate his dinner.

_No,_ he thought, _no_.

So while Arthur's life had always been empty; having it lack a close companion of ever lover. He was comfortable with it. It felt natural to him; not having anyone else that could relate to him almost felt like breathing. Something necessary and incapable of being changed. He felt jealous of Harry. Why though? Arthur could see them too and yet Arthur felt hatred towards the young boy.

Could this mean that Arthur was no longer special? If someone else could see them he was no longer one of a kind, a work of art. There was another person out there with the ability of Sight. Another person that no longer keeps him from fading into the crowd. If Arthur Kirkland was not special, then Arthur Kirkland might as well be the same as his coworkers.

Harry grabbed for the fairy, which, in return flew back angrily, cursing in some sort of language Arthur did not understand. The toddler looked happy; very happy. And while Arthur felt sad that he was not special, or jealous that Harry could see them as well. He could not bring himself to be angry at the boy.

Several emotions developed in the room. Alfred could just feel it. Arthur had never looked the way he had looked now. It was like his older brother was watching a crowd of people kicking puppies and ransacking homes, mixed with the sweet feeling of having a best friend or eating a sherbet on a summer day. It was a bitter sweet feeling.

And while all this was going on his focused seemed to be in Harry, who return seemed to be overjoyed or excited about something.

"Alfred," Arthur spoke quietly. "Go."

"What Artie?" Alfred seemed shocked at the random requested that seemed to come out of nowhere from his darling brother. "Arthur I thought I was going to stay the night, dude. I'm a hero, a hero needs his rest."

Arthur wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at his brother's remark. This month so far had become the worse, or perhaps, even the best of his life. One thing he was sure of though, was this one was the absolutely most interesting and confusing.

"Alfred, please," He continued. "Just go."

"Alright! Alright, fine. I will go, but why don't you shine some light on where _exactly_ it is I'll be going?" Alfred put his hand to his hips in what he called a 'sassy' way. He had a habit of doing this when he wanted something or was making a point.

"You know where Patrick lives. Just take my car and get out. I have something ,I guess, I need to find out." Arthur went to the small cupboard under the stair case. He opened the door and searched for the trench coat he wore last weekend before digging his fingers into the pockets and retrieving the key.

Alfred stood in the kitchen beside Harry and the slightly angry fairy he wasn't aware of. He took the keys from Arthur when they were held out to him. He hadn't seen Patrick in years, but sure enough he knew where his house was.

.oOo.

Arthur wasn't sure how he was supposed to find out exactly it was Harry had come from. Hopefully, where he had come from it would explain how the boy had the ability to see the flying creature from before in the kitchen. And perhaps, with luck, might even uncover something for Arthur. He didn't get his hopes up though.

There was a point in time that Arthur thought only children could see them. This was when he was nine years of age though. It wasn't until he realized Alfred or Matthew couldn't see them was he convinced he was truly the only one of a kind.

It had been an hour since Arthur had put Harry down for bed. The boy didn't seem very pleased with the news of this and made sure to put up a fight before giving into the temptation of sleeping. All-in-all, it had taken Arthur around three hours to get the boy,_ his _boy, to bed.

Now, Arthur found himself in a predicament. Figuring out Harry's origins was more difficult without a good place to start. Arthur figured he'd start with a simple Google search of the names 'James and Lilly Potter' and see where that brought him.

Several links come up; one however stood out amongst the others. The link read, "Potter murder at Godric's Hollow" and due to Arthur vase curiosity, he clicked on it. The site was a normal news site that listed articles big and small from papers. After scrolling down past other columns telling about other tragic stories of scandals, he came upon one of a murder.

Arthur looked at the picture of the family, a man and a woman stood in front of their house with a young child in his arms. Arthur looked at the picture closer, studying their faces. He could make out certain features he saw in Harry's face. He began reading it quietly to himself.

"_It was a terrible tragic morning of November 1__st__ when the family was found,_" Arthur read. "_James and Lilly Potter, a new couple that had recently moved to Godric's Hollow after the birth of their first and now only child Harry Potter; were found dead. The mother, Lilly, was in her son of 15 months room dead on the floor as for the father, elsewhere._"

"_I was later announced that the young son of the newly desisted couple was nowhere in sight as detectives presume the killer had abducted him after the actual killing was preformed._" Arthur continued reading. "_This case has been listed under "Extreme Odd Cases" for while detectives are almost certain the act was a murder; Pathologist cannot figure out the cause of death."_

"_Young Potter is still being looked for."_

Arthur felt anxious as a surge of panic rushed through his veins. Had the person that had left Harry known that the boy was being looked for? Had they intended on telling him or perhaps they didn't care and figured he would no longer be looked for. What would happen if authorities found of that it was he, Arthur Kirkland, that coveted the boy.

Would he be charged with the murder? No. No he couldn't be. He had the papers! The ones he got from the envelope to show that he was Harry's adopted father. Could they take him away if Arthur presented the papers? Certainly not, right?

"The envelope sai-," Arthur cut himself short as he had an ah-ha moment. He quickly rose to his feet and rushed to the study retrieving the magical envelope from the cubby he kept it in. "The envelope, I can use this. If I can get letters from it, I must be able to send them through it as well."

The thought sounded preposterous, unreal, and stupid. Then again, the thought of people being capable of seeing creatures of magic also did. This envelope he had received with Harry has sent him two letters already. Well, one was just of papers, but the envelope had sent it none the less. Almost like a private mail service Arthur guessed.

"I can write a letter to that Albus bloke, asking questions about Harry and his parents, or whether those people in the paper were actually them. I can ask how Harry can see the creatures, how this envelope works or what he meant by saying Harry could be a passage or whatever it was."

An overwhelming confusion that he had felt several times this month showered over Arthur. Never before had he felt so confused about life, so helpless. It was almost as if no matter how hard he looked for answers, he'd never find them. Arthur rummaged through a drawer finding a paper and pen before he began to write.

This was, perhaps, Arthur's only hope for answers.

.oOo.

Author's Notes: This is really late and in my opinion not to great (tee hee rhyme). I've been having writers block and just didn't know how to write this one. I wanted to give it a little bit of a twist for many of you were expecting Arthur to be overjoyed to find someone like him. I just didn't seem that to be real. I figured Arthur would be sort of sad to find out he wasn't different like he thought he was. Don't worry though, he comes round. Hopefully, I can write a fun family outing because I really want Harry to be more in the story, which he will be. I just want to beginning to focus more on Arthur and him discovering who Harry is and who—or what exactly he is.

Also, I'm sorry for bringing the Envelope back up. It might be annoying and repetitive (which I hate) but it a key part.

If you are wondering who Patrick is, he is Ireland. Haha, I'm cliché with names! Scotland is going to be Scott and Wales will be Michael. Sorry if the names suck.

Leave a review and tell me what you think about the whole ordeal. Do you think Arthur is being a jerk or are his emotions reasonable. Was using the envelope a good game move or no? What should Arthur and Harry's later outing be?


	5. The Plans

Chapter Four: The Plans

Author's Note: Hi all, sorry for the late post! I want to thank Rachel, one of my readers that pointed out one of my mistakes in the other chapter. I am terrible sorry for this. I hadn't even noticed or even considered this. Her words, "_Google wasn't established until 1998 and if Harry is only a young boy, born in 1980, it would be impossible for Arthur to do a Google search. Furthermore, wizards would not use Muggle technology such as computers; many examples in the books will prove their confusion for the technology_." I didn't even realize the mistake! Haha. My bad. I'll do my best to not let it happen again. Thanks again Rachel! C:

However, Arthur's true identity on this story has yet to be revealed so his computer skills are rather mediocre. To conclude the last mistake pointed out, I suppose I forgot to mention of failed to read in the series whether or not if James and Lilly's death were at all recognized by the Muggle community at all. I wasn't necessarily saying that it was witches and wizards that wrote the article, but the detective agency of the Muggling world. Other than that, I have to admit that it is my fault for not making that clear. Last chapter was not my best; in fact, I felt it was rather rushed.

I realized I uploaded this earlier saying it was a Christmas special, but I lied! Ha, It _was_ going to be a Christmas special but halfway through the 3 page, I realized it was crap and deleted it. Heh, sorry for any confusion.

Disclaimer: I own nothing C:

.oOo.

Everything. Why was it _everything _never went exactly how Arthur planned it to? When he wrote the letter and put it in the envelope he expected a rather quick reply. He was not asking of much, after all, it was this guy who dumped a baby on his door step! He just needed some written proof that he wasn't going insane and that where Harry had come from, it was normal to see _them_.

Since the night he saw what Harry could see; Arthur's attitude changed in a rather rapid pace. He could now admit, rather shamefully that in the beginning he was angry at Harry for coming into his home and taking the only thing that made him special. Afterwards, chaos.

The need for answers came to him extremely quickly. He was willing to try anything. He just couldn't bring himself to write another letter and was rather surprised that the first one has disappeared. Arthur was sort of, what one would call, afraid to check the envelope.

.oOo.

"Dude, I like, totally forgive you man!"

"Alfred, I did not invite you over to forgive you," Arthur huffed. "Actually, I didn't bloody invite you over at all. I just want my car."

"Aw! Come on Artie!" Alfred laughed, trying his best to look hurt. He plucked Harry off the floor and threw him into the air. It wasn't until he almost didn't catch the boy did he realize it probably wasn't a good idea.

Arthur snatched Harry from Alfred. "What is wrong with you, you bloody wanker?" Arthur huffed and examined Harry to make sure he wasn't suffering from some sort of wipe slash. "Are you alright?"

"Mhm," Harry nodded, still slightly startled by the quick sudden movements. "I okay."

"Good," Arthur smiled before turning towards Alfred once more with a stern expression. "Be more careful when you come into my home. He's hardy but he isn't made of stone."

"Oh chill-ax Artie!" Alfred laughed obnoxiously, patting his older brother on the back several times. Arthur wondered if Alfred knew exactly how hard he was hitting him and was sure that there would be several red marks if not welts on his back. "I'm a hero after all! And heroes never let people get hurt!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Now if you'd please give me my car keys, I have places to go after all."

"Oh, Such as?"

"I am _not_ entitled to tell you anything about my personal life Al," England scowled. "But if you absolutely must know every little detail to my life then I guess I have no other choice but to te-."

"Not true," Alfred interrupted, taking Arthur's keys from his pocket. "You could not tell me and I could force you to the floor in a super-cool, super-awesome head lock that I invented with my amazing heroic abilities!"

"Oh piss off!" Arthur snatched the keys from Alfred's hands. He had to admit, he was rather grumpy but it wasn't entirely his fault. Alfred defiantly added to the mix after all. "I'm going to lunch is all, not exactly a particularly special event."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, looking at his brother then to his nephew that seemed to have his eyes fixed on his the strips of hair above his eyes and glasses. Alfred figured that because he is with Arthur 24- 7, groomed eyebrows such as his heroic ones must be such a foreign thing to Harry. "Just you and Harry?"

"No, not just Harry and I," Arthur turned away, almost as if he was trying to hide a blush. "I'm seeing an old 'friend' for lunch. Somehow the git found out about Harry and is demanding to meet him. I wouldn't go if it wasn't for the free lunch."

Alfred laughed. "Going to get good food into Harry's tummy for once?" Alfred realized that probably wasn't the best thing to say and quickly covered up his question with another. "So, uh, do I know this old 'friend' of yours?"

"You might know him…"

"Does _him _have a name?"

"Merlin's beard, Alfred! Must you know everything?" Arthur pocketed his keys, still holding onto to Harry with his free arm. "Why does it matter who I'm having lunch with?"

Harry watched him put his keys in his pocket and decided to do Arthur a favor by retrieving them once again. "We eat?"

"Yes Harry, we'll eat soon but I don't need my keys right now so put them back into Dad's pocket, okay." Harry nodded, dropping the keys into his father's pocket before going back to admire Alfred's odd eyebrows.

"Well sorry for wanting to know whereabouts of my nephew," Alfred rejoined the conversation. "Not to mention with a stranger I don't know. What if he gets you drunk Arthur, then what?"

"For God sake Alfred, it's the morning. I wouldn't drink even if I wanted to." Arthur bounced Harry to get a better grip on him. "Besides, you may know him. Now do me a favor and hand me Harry's diaper bag."

"Really?" Alfred went over to the couch and picked up the dark blue bag, giving it to Arthur. "What's his name? Might jog my memory if I do know him."

"No happening." Arthur bent over, returning Harry to the floor before going into the kitchen. Naturally, Harry followed Arthur.

"Tell me tell me tell me!" Alfred demanded, also following Arthur into the kitchen.

"If I do, will you leave me be?"

"Sure."

Arthur sighed. He grabbed a bottle from the cabinet and retrieved the milk from the fridge. He knew that Harry was well over the age of needing milk as part of his diet, but it soothed him not to mention helps him go to sleep, which in Arthur's book, is a life saver.

"What is his name?" Alfred demanded again, once more picking the completely clueless Harry from his father's feet.

"No!" Harry fused and squirmed wanting to go back onto the floor, or better yet, be close the Arthur again.

"Calm down Harry," Arthur told the boy while snapping the bottle lib onto its bottle before shoving it into the diaper bag and making another, just in case. "His names Francis…"

"Like, as in Francis Bonnefoy culinary genius and your arch enemy?" Alfred snickered before adding, "Not to mention your ex?"

"Sh-shut up Al!" Arthur blushed. "It's not like that anymore… We're just friends I guess…"

Alfred laughed. "Arthur and Francis sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love then comes marriage then comes Harry in a rocking carriage!"

Arthur blushed deeper before throwing the closest thing to him at Alfred. It just so happened to be a spoon that grazed the top of Alfred's head. Neither the less, he was completely unharmed.

"Well, Arthur. In your case, Harry came before marriage completely unplanned or at least untold about," Alfred chuckled. "Not to mention adopted, but there isn't anything wrong with being adopted, right?"

"No," Arthur stated rather coolly. "There isn't. Harry is just as much my son as that Dudley lad is Mr. and Mrs. Dursley."

The Dursleys were Arthur neighbors and, of course, two people he hated. Arthur did his best to be a perfect English gentleman which meant not allowing his hatred for them ever result into something violent. In fact, he would have not had a problem with the Dursleys if it wasn't for the day where he thought he'd come up with a wonderful idea.

When Arthur thought was a perfect plan turned out to be a terrible mistake. He had once saw the Dudley, the son of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, playing out front. He was a rather chubby boy that looked well fed and it occurred to Arthur that he did not look to much older than Harry.

Alas, an idea was born. Harry and Dudley could play. After all, Arthur did live in a rather "elderly" neighborhood and the chance of finding another child was very scarce. Arthur didn't count on them being complete jerks which then resulted in Mr. and Mrs. Dursley not seeing the genius in Arthur's plan.

All in All, the day ended with the demand of Arthur getting off their property and a door slammed angrily into his face. He couldn't lie; Arthur wished he could barge into their home and knock the living day lights out of the lot of them. Hell, Arthur still wanted to and there is no shame in wishful thinking.

"So, when is this lunch date?" Alfred asked.

"I have to leave now if I want to look goo—I mean, get there on time."

.oOo.

Author's Note: I am surprisingly happy with how this chapter turned out. It did, after all, take me about a week to write. I erased then rewrote then erased again! It was hell, but I was worth it. Next chapter will have Francis in it, and therefore, be rather fun to write!

Tell me what you think: Did you catch any slipups (Thanks again Rachel!)? What would you like to see? Would you like to see Arthur and Francis having a pinch of interest in one another?


	6. NOTICE!

**!Notice!**

Hey all! I have a few things to say and I'll start off with about the last chapters!

Some appeared to have a problem with Arthur (possibly) having a relationship with Francis! I will assure you that, regardless my love of frUK, I am not going to have them be.

Reasons? Well, this story is about ARTHUR and HARRY and will remain about the two. I just enjoy throwing little tidbits in here and there for, while I may own a grand ship, it cannot move without water. Meaning, I know where I'd like this story to go, I just need filler characters and scenarios to get there!

Also, I am a terrible planner that should probably plot out stories before I start them. Unfortunately I did not do that with this one and did not take into consideration how long this story would be exactly. Honestly, I just realized that, at the rate it is going now, it would probably take me quite a while to re-write the whole story as Arthur in the parental seat. While I have the option of speeding up Harry's age, I'd have a hard time shaking the feeling I missed something crucial to character development.

In other words, despite how it pains me so, the possibility of this story becoming discontinued is extremely high. Though while I do have the time to write this story, my ability of staying entertained by one story is rather small and I like to avoid repetitive things. Also, I sort of feel like this story won't be going anywhere soon.

Please, my dearest readers, don't get mad at me. I want to finish it but I fear that if I do I will let you down. It is like writing a research paper; it is simple and easy to write the first page because you have all the information, but soon you realize that you've run out of fact. If I continue writing this story it would just turn out to be bland and boring, which I think it already had.

Perhaps, with inspiration that may come to me in the future, I will continue this story.

I'm truly sorry for those who enjoyed this story,

Emilie Smith


	7. The Bathroom Incident

Chapter 6: The Bathroom Incident

Hey all! Are you surprised to see another chapter? I sure hope so! Originally I was going to discontinue this story because I just could not find any drive; however, lately I have been having the urge to continue this so I am going to. However, since I have to either wait for inspiration or force myself to write another chapter, I will be updating rather randomly from one after the other, to weeks on between. All-in-all, this story will be continued unless decided against it somewhere along the line.

Opps, and someone pointed out that I called Arthur, England. That was not on purpose! Arthur is not a nation in this story. This is more of a Hetalia AU than a Harry Potter one. Sorry! Feel free to point out mistakes like that if you see any.

Warning: Francis being Francis.

Disclaimer: I asked to own Hetalia but my mom wouldn't let me. I asked to own Harry Potter, but my GPA was to low… Sigh.

.oOo.

It had taken Arthur longer to bathe and dress Harry than it had taken him himself. This scared Arthur for he just had to look absolutely stunning. Not for the reason of "wooing" Francis rather than for ego purposes. Ever since the day he has met Francis, they were in a battle of classiness and it pained Arthur to say that Francis was winning. The reason for this was completely past Arthur.

"Papa," Harry's sweet, high voice drew Arthur from his thoughts. The bushy eye browed man looked down at his son who appeared to, in the short moment Arthur was not paying attention, remove his overalls. "Papa."

"Yes?" Arthur asked, rather annoyed as he began redressing the lad. Harry in return fussed slightly.

"Papa, Hawy poop," The innocent green eyes looked up at the father that looked nothing like him, acted nothing like him, and was biologically, nothing like him. At the new news Arthur's face feel and he began undressing the boy like he had done previously. He wondered if Harry was trying to be obnoxious or help him out a bit.

Changing Harry was one of the hardest tasks Arthur was bestowed with. He couldn't help but wonder at what age it would be appropriate to begin potty training Harry or if he had already missed the preferred age. Raising a child was hard.

.oOo.

By the time Arthur was ready, Harry was ready, the baby bag was put together, and the telly was turned off; he and Harry were already a good 15 minutes late which irked the Brit. He hated being late, even more so being accused of being "fashionably late". In record time, he was able to throw Harry in the car, strap him off and race to their decided meeting place.

It wasn't until he was halfway there, where ever _there _was, when he realized he had left the address of where it was he was meeting Francis. This resulted in racing back home, running into the house and snatching up the address. By this time, he was over 30 minutes late.

Once he and Harry arrived to the restaurant, Arthur was able to spot Francis undoubtedly waiting in front of the building. Thank the fairies it was a slow day and Arthur was able to find a parking place easily.

"Aw, Arthur," Francis explained when the Brit walked towards him after leaving the house. " 'Ow are you mon cheri?"

"Do not call me that, frog." Arthur spat out.

"It 'as been so long and you are no different," the French man spoke, his words heavily coated with the accent of his native land. "I see you, a baby bad and yet, no baby. Tell me Arthur, w'ere is the boy I heard so much about from unmentionable sources."

"Bloody hell," Arthur shoved the bag into Francis' arms and quickly walked towards his Volvo, opening the door and retrieving the sleeping Harry from the back. Arthur felt awful, hiding his blush while he walked back towards Francis who sported an amused smirk. A wonderful way to start an outing, indeed.

Almost at the swiftness of a speeding bullet, Francis was gushing over the sleeping toddler as if the little scene that just played out never happened. "Mon Dieu, Arthur. Your son is absolutely adorable. I think it was best you decided to adopted, wouldn't want you passing those unsightly eye brows."

Arthur kicked Francis in the shin. If he wasn't going to act professional, then neither would be. Francis winced and smiled slightly. "Non, you 'aven't changed a bit."

It was easy to be seated quickly due to the low amount of people, which made Arthur happy since he had no desire to wait for a table with Francis, none the less actually being out with him. Their past was not the best and their relationship was entirely built upon Arthur desire to be bi curious at the time. He was never able to find anything more that fondness for the other man.

"What brought you back to England?" Arthur asked, half interested as he laid a blanket out across the unused booth chair beside him with his free hand. He laid Harry on this careful not to wake him. "I thought you hated it here, at least, that is what you told me."

"Oui, I do 'ate it 'ere," Francis scoffed, taking a drink of water from the glass a waitress had given them earlier. "But there are better jobs, so I figured I might as well. To be 'onest, I wasn't planning on contacting you at all."

"Then why didn't you save me the trouble and keep your bloody nose out of my life, frog?"

"I 'eard you 'ad a son! I wanted to know what young lady you "knocked up", but that I was told that you adopted 'im." Francis glanced across the table at the barely visible child. "What orphanage?"

"Uh, up north in Southern Durham," Arthur lied through him teeth. "There is a boy's orphanage. Nice place I suppose, not to big though."

"Aw, maybe I should check it out," Francis noted, looking at Arthur as if he was reading his emotions.

"It, uh, they closed it down. That's why I adopted Harry; I wanted to give him a home." He wondered if his lies were obvious to Francis. Luckily he didn't have to question for long since the Parisian seemed to shrug it off, moving onto the next subject on hand. Arthur listened half heartily as Francis began telling him about his job, house, past lovers.

It wasn't until their food arrived and Arthur woke Harry up to eat his small plate of Mac and Cheese. Once the boy was able to come to, he was quickly bomb bordered with questions from Francis which over whelmed him.

"So 'Arry, what is your favorite color?" The mysterious mad asked him.

With his fingers, he picked up some noodles, shoving the food into his mouth before explaining that he liked "gween", "urple", and "ed". Arthur dreaded the thought of having to give Harry another bath when they got home and demanded him use the small fork he had brought.

"Arthur," Francis interrupted. "You 'ad told me you never wanted kids. What changed your mind?"

Arthur shrugged. "It all happened really fast. You could say I didn't have a say in it."

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter."

Francis was about to speak when a cry tore through the air coming from Harry's direction. Both mean looked toward the little boy quickly. It was rather obvious what had caused him to cry for beside him was the streak knife Arthur was using and a bloody hand from most likely a urge to pick up the object. Arthur concluded that in the short time he and Francis were discussing matters; Harry had got a hold of it and unintentionally cut himself.

He was quick to pick the boy up; bouncing him slightly hoping it would calm the boy slightly. The jester turned out to be plentiful as Harry's sobs turned into light cries from being startled. "Excuse me for a second Francis. I need to clean him up.

Francis nodded, watching Arthur walk to the restroom with the crying infant in his arms. He dipped his own napkin into his glass of water and proceeded to clean the slight blood droplets from the table.

In the restroom, Arthur placed the small boy on the counter beside the bathroom sink before reaching to get a napkin from the dispenser and damping it in the sink. Turning to Harry, he opened his hand gently to examine the wound.

Arthur could tell by the amount of blood that it was a rather deep wound. As he went in to dab the cut, a feeling began to build in his gut. He could easily result it in a stomach ache or butterflies but he knew it was something different. The feeling began to spread throughout his veins, towards his brain and finger tips. Every cell in his bloody began to tingle and Arthur swore times slowed down.

Something told him to look down toward his son's hand. Arthur nearly bit his tongue when he saw what was going on. In front of him, inside Harry's palm, the blood was retreating back into the wound as the skin began to re-stitch itself. Arthur gulped and blinked a few.

Was he dreaming?

.oOo.

So apparently according to Wiki as well as the books, wizards and witches can do silent magic that the issuer does not realize they are doing! I will allow you to decide whether it was Harry or Arthur who did it. However, a really good HP fan should be able to figure it out since there appears to be rules to using magic!


End file.
